


don't drown it out, like i always do

by gaymes (sevenbraincells)



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Soulmates, Pre-Canon, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates, music is awfully important in this fic considering that i dont know anything about music, no one's neurotypical here bb, past julie/flynn and julie/carrie, this bad boy can fit SO many headcanons, times two
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28309062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenbraincells/pseuds/gaymes
Summary: The first thing that Luke did after he learned to talk, was sing.Julie’s first words, the ones that her parents would always remember - and if not, they always had it on tape - were the lyrics to a song.And when losing music brings them together, of course it's no surprise that their harmony is perfect.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 34





	1. conversations in my head

The first thing that Luke did after he learned to talk, was sing. 

His parents used to brag about it, about their little boy being a musician at that age. Who could blame them? He’d always been such a cute kid, so passionate about music, even if he was overly touchy and wasn’t the best at eye contact.

Sure, when they were over at a family friends and Luke would sneak up and hug absolute strangers and refuse to talk to them, his parents would share a look, one that Luke would never understand, but that meant they were worried.

About him. 

He didn’t get why. They’d always been so happy when he played on their neighbours guitar as a kid, calling him a little prodigy and all that. But for some reason, when his parents finally got him that electric guitar he’d been begging for since the year before, they hated the idea of him playing it in a band. 

If they didn’t want him to play the guitar, what was the point of getting it for him? It’s not like they weren’t well off, but an electric  _ that nice  _ wasn’t going to be a decoration. 

But when they saw that Luke was serious about the band thing, they started opening up to it. They didn’t get it, but Luke hadn’t expected them too. 

Music had always meant everything to him, but it meant almost nothing to them. 

When his grades started to drop, his mom tried taking away his guitar, but that just made things worse for Luke. 

His mom never understood why, but she cared enough about her son to let him play again. Compromises had never come easy to Luke, but he didn’t stop trying. 

If Luke’s grades went up, just enough to earn him a solid B average, he could be in that rock band he wouldn’t shut up about. 

It worked, more or less. 

There were these three guys in his music class, Alex, Reggie and Bobby, that he’d gotten pretty close with, which obviously had nothing to do with Alex’s awesome drumming, Reggie’s rad bass-playing and Bobby’s beautiful rhythmic guitar. 

And so Sunset Curve was born. 

Luke had come up with the name, obviously. It had came to him in a dream, he claimed, though refused to elaborate on that. 

The others didn’t really care. 

He didn’t tell him parents about the band, his friends warned him against that -  _ friends _ . Wasn’t that a nice word - and so, to Mitch and Emily Patterson, the boys were just his study group. 

It wasn’t a lie, Alex had told him when Luke started freaking about because  _ he’d never lied to his parents before, oh no, what if it goes horribly wrong and they find out and they never trust- _ , because they were each other’s study group.

They just happened to also be friends who were in a band together. 

“Right,” Luke had said, “thanks,” 

Alex just nodded and wished him luck, though Luke wasn’t exactly sure why. 

He wasn’t sure why people did a lot of things, like eye contact, for example, but that’s not relevant, even if everytime Alex would look into his eyes while either of them were talking, Luke felt like he was burning under the fire of a thousand suns, even if he wasn’t quite sure how hot that was supposed to be. 

But he did like how people touched the people they cared about. He liked the way Alex would take his hand when his anxiety became too much, the way Reggie bumped his shoulder into his when he was excited. 

It grounded him almost as much as his music did. 

The three boys really did help Luke with his schoolwork, and soon the B-average was an ease to maintain - with Alex’s help in history, Reggie’s in calculus, Bobby’s in biology and his own perfect grade in music - he was all set.

“We have to make a deal,” His dad had said to him one night, as he and Luke’s mom sat on the couch across from Luke. 

“Okay?” 

“About your music,” his mother continued. “I don’t want to take music away from you.” Luke nodded, because he was glad that she didn’t want to. 

“But,” 

Oh. 

That wasn’t good. But’s were rarely ever good. 

Of course, they could be in the case of-

“You have to keep your grades up, okay? I know it’s hard for you, it’s always been hard for you to focus and really understand the things that you couldn’t feel, but we-” his mom squeezed his dad’s hand as she spoke, “really think, no, we  _ know  _ that you have the potential to be great.”

“But I already have music,” 

“Yes of course honey, and we’re glad that you do-”

“Thank you,” 

“We just think that it’d be nice for you to keep your options open,” 

“What do you mean? I’m going into music, you know this-” Luke could hear his own voice getting louder, but he couldn’t do anything about it. 

His parents took a deep breath, having realized over the years that Luke didn’t want to yell at them, nor did he mean to, and knew it wasn’t worth getting mad at him over. They just had to be patient. 

“Think of, whatever your second option is as a backup plan. We’re not saying that you have to become a marine biologist or anything, we’re just saying that you need to make sure that  _ if  _ music doesn’t work, you’ll still have something to do.” 

“But why wouldn’t music work?”

It was a valid question: Luke had done everything and everything for his music. He lived it, he breathed it. He wasn’t one with the music; he was the music. 

“We’re not sure honey,” his mom said.

“Sometimes people’s dreams just don’t come true,” his dad said. 

“But this isn’t a dream,” Luke found himself looking into his mom’s eyes for just a second, “this is more than a dream. Music is the only thing in the world that I love, that I’ve ever loved and that I’ll ever love.” 

Luke regretted it the second the words left his mouth. 

“Mom, dad, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay, Lucas,” his mom said, but she  _ never  _ called him by his full name and he knew that it wasn’t. “I’m going out for some air,” she said, standing up, leaving Luke standing awkwardly in their living room and his dad on the couch, his head in his hands. 

“Mom, mom-” 

“She’ll get over it Luke,” his dad said, “we all say things we don’t mean,”

“I don’t,” Luke said.

“You don’t,” his dad repeated in agreement. 

“I’m going over to Reggie's,” 

“Tell his dad hi from me,” 

Luke shrugged and said, “I’m not sure if he’ll talk to me.” 

“Well,” his dad exhaled loudly. “In that case, tell Reggie that he’s always welcome here.” 

It wasn’t the first time that his parents had said that, and Luke couldn’t help but storm off, though only after yelling, “f you want another kid, why don’t you just have one?” 

“We don’t want another kid,” his dad yelled, but Luke had already slammed the door. “We just want your friends to know that an adult cares about them,” 

If someone was to ask Luke why he ended up running away, he couldn’t exactly say why. Sure, he’d cite creative differences, but that wasn’t the whole story and everyone knew it. 

The only thing that was obvious from the second he ran away, was that Luke wanted to go back, but not physically. 

He wanted to go back and rewrite the story of his life with his parents. He dreamed up a billion and a half ways to say sorry, but none of them felt right. 

Luke’s thoughts had always been songs and music; he’d never be able to think without a melody, but he couldn’t find the words to the song in his mind. 

So he just sat there, in the studio, going through the motions of a conversation he knew he’d never have. 

He didn’t talk for weeks. 

He just wrote, every word that finally came. 

_ Maybe time would not erase me, _

_ If you could only know I never let you go. _

He didn’t write that song on his own, he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t the only one with the words left unsaid, with the I Love You’s left unspoken. He had help from Alex, Bobby and Reggie. It was Sunset Curve’s as much as it was his, because to him, they were the same thing. 

When they started getting some traction, it wasn’t, “yeah, I’m in a band, it’s called Sunset Curve, you should tell your friends.” 

It was always, “we’re sunset curve, tell your friends,” 

But it wasn’t the only song he wrote about running away either.

When the words about his mom started flowing, so did the words about his dad. So did the words about the things he never really understood about life, about the feelings he had but couldn’t talk about. 

And so when they died, the night they were going to become legends, the night that he would have proved to them, that he could do it, that music wasn’t a waste of time, that he wasn’t a waste of time, the last thing he could remember thinking was, “I’m going to give you a proper goodbye, because this isn’t it,” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could've titled this ghost of you, but alas, lumity brainrot.


	2. you got some place to go

When Julie was born, her parents couldn’t have been happier. 

They’d always wanted a daughter, a little girl to spoil and a reason to make the world a better place.

Julie was everything that they wanted and more.

As Ray and Rose’s first kid, they were willing to do anything and everything with, and for, her. So when she didn’t like talking, she loved to sing.

Julie’s first words, the ones that her parents would always remember - and if not, they always had it on tape - were the lyrics to a song. 

Right then, right there, they knew that their daughter was destined for something great. 

Julie spent more time in her mom’s studio than she did anywhere else in the world. It was probably strange to outsiders, how this little girl had virtually grown up in the garage of a nice house in southern California. 

But her parents didn’t mind it. In fact, her mom was thankful for it. 

Because Julie was  _ really  _ talented. Julie had an ear for music, for the melody and the lyrics, which would’ve made her a good musician. 

The way that Julie felt the music, the way she worked at it until it found its way into her soul, and how she played like the music was air she needed to breathe, was what made her a great one. 

Julie and her mom had written hundreds of songs together by the time that Julie turned thirteen, each one better than the last. 

But that was the year when things started falling apart. 

The garage was a sacred place for Julie and her mom. When the two of them were in there, no one else was allowed inside without express permission. 

Carlos ended up coming up with a knock that he did before entering and it was just complicated enough for Julie’s mom to sigh and look over at her before agreeing that Carlos - and her dad - could come in while she was in there. 

Julie wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea: she couldn’t practice if too many people were watching her, unless she was specifically performing for an audience. 

If she was playing at a school or party or whatever, she didn’t mind if there were five or ten or hundreds of thousands of people watching her.

But when she was playing for herself, a single pair of unsolicited eyes would b enough to set her off. The only two people, that weren’t Julie’s blood family, that she let into the garage while she was playing alone were Flynn and Carrie. 

Flynn had always been there for her, with her, and Julie knew that she’d never be able to find the words to thank her the way that she wanted to, even before everything came crumbling down. 

And growing up, Carrie and Julie were  _ that  _ duo. They both came from music, though Julie definitely liked it a bit more than Carrie. Carrie was the first person that Julie met who didn’t care that it was all Julie could talk about for days. It was why they became friends in the first place. 

But when they were thirteen, things just started feeling off and they drifted apart. Julie missed Carrie, more than words could ever say, because it was her first breakup and she lost a friend. 

Flynn and Julie got closer after that, because for a while it just felt like the two of them against the world. And that was more or less the case at school. 

No matter what happened, the two of them had each other. 

So when Julie’s mom started getting sick, and Julie started playing music less, talking less, and being less of herself, Flynn was patient with her. Flynn found new ways to communicate with her.

Sign language didn’t stick, and the two didn’t want to text all the time, so they ended up learning morse code when Julie’s mom was in the hospital and Flynn and Julie would spend the night. 

When Flynn’s grandparents didn’t accept her after she came out, Julie was over at Flynn’s house every night, reminding her as many times as she had to, that she was valid and loved and appreciated. 

When Julie couldn’t spend the night in the hospital and refused to go home, she would go over to Flynn who’d always accept her with open arms, and the two would lay in Flynn’s bed, content to be in each other’s presence. 

Except for one night, when Flynn sat up and started talking. 

“So I’m going over to my grandparents for thanksgiving,” 

Julie’s face soured. “I’m sorry that must suck,”

“Yeah,” Flynn said with a look on her face Julie couldn’t quite comprehend, “they’re trying to set me up with a guy again. A family friend of sorts? I don’t even know. It’s like to them, I can’t be a lesbian if I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry, I could never understand what it’s like,” 

“Don’t be,” Flynn said, “there’s nothing you could do. It’s just nice knowing you’re here for me. Here with me.” 

“I have an idea,” 

“Go on,”

Julie reached out her hand, waiting for Flynn to put hers in it. “What if I go to your grandparents with you? For thanksgiving, I mean.” 

“For moral support?” 

Julie shook her head. “As your girlfriend.”

“You’re serious.” Flynn said, and it wasn’t a question. 

“It’s not like we’d be totally lying.” 

“Yeah you’re right,” Flynn noticed. “We’ve lowkey been dating. Without the kissing, though.” 

“Kisses make me uncomfortable,” Julie pointed out. 

“So are we like-”

Julie shrugged. “Why not?”

For the record, thanksgiving with Flynn’s grandparents wasn’t a total disaster and Flynn did end up being Julie’s first kiss and she didn’t totally hate it. 

Or dislike it. At all. In any way. In fact, she really truly did like it. 

But Julie didn’t really get to think about it: to think about Flynn like that, to think about her and Flynn like that, because her mom died. 

And Julie didn’t speak for a month. 

Flynn was the only person she truly communicated with, because they still knew morse code from when they learned it nearly a year before in the hospital. 

No one pushed Julie to play. Not at home, at least. 

Her family was patient with her, even Tia Victoria who’d been so set on them moving on, knew that Julie’s relationship with her mom and music was something she’d never understand, and didn’t question it. Nor did Flynn. 

And Julie was so thankful that she didn’t have to explain  _ why  _ she couldn’t play, because she knew they’d never understand. 

No one touched the studio for nearly a year after Julie’s mom died. 


End file.
